


moving lips to breathe her name

by lost_n_stereo



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, bad girl!Clarke, bellarke modern au, history nerd!Bellamy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-03-13 13:56:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3384137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_n_stereo/pseuds/lost_n_stereo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy Blake is destined for great things, including a successful senior year and a future at the Ivy League school of his choice. But what happens when he meets Clarke Griffin, Hamilton High’s newest bad girl, a girl with an affinity for leather, ripped jeans, and bad decisions?</p><p>Clarke Griffin is angry. Still coping with her father’s recent death and a move to a new town the summer before senior year, she’s ready to fight. Enter a new best friend and a bad boy boyfriend and she thinks she’s got everything under control. Until her history teacher’s TA catches her eye. Now she’s thinking life in Hamilton just got a little more interesting.</p><p>Rated M for language, mostly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. bellamy

It’s strange, he thinks as he’s walking up the front steps of Hamilton High, that he’s been going to school with the same people for the last three years but he doesn’t really know any of them.

He has his core group of friends, the ones that he hangs out with during and after school, and then there are the people that he sees every day but only talks to on campus. In a school as small as his though, less than a thousand students, you would think that he wouldn’t be able to count the number of real friends that he has on two hands.

He can though. He really only needs a hand and a half.

It’s the first day of his senior year and he’s never been more ready for anything in his entire life. He’s a great student and as long as this year goes exactly to plan he’ll be graduating soon and heading to Princeton. It’s the only place he’s ever wanted to go and he’s not going to settle for anything less.

He’s just thinking that absolutely nothing is going to distract him this year when a blonde in tight, ripped jeans and a worn leather jacket almost runs into him as he pulls open one of the heavy double doors that leads into the school’s main hallway.

"Hey, watch it!" she cries as she pushes her way past him. "People are walking here, y’know?"

There’s a cackle from his left and he turns to see the red lipped scowl of a brunette in fishnets and combat boots.

"Yeah, nerd. Get lost."

"You know," he says with a roll of his eyes. "School is this way." He motions towards the double doors and the blonde laughs.

"Why do you think we’re going this way?" She points towards the street. "Have fun in homeroom.”

The brunette beside her barks out a laugh and he watches in slight amusement as the blonde wiggles her fingers at him in a wave before turning and heading away from the school. 

He’s still thinking about the encounter when he heads to lunch a few hours later, his group of friends waiting for him at the table they’ve been sitting at since freshman year. It’s a little bit of a shock that he hasn’t had any of them in any of his classes so far today so he’s seeing some of them now for the first time in weeks.

Monty Green, his best friend since elementary school, is at the head of the table, surrounded by a stack of books with one open in front of him.

"Hey!" Monty calls when Bellamy steps up to the table. "Bellamy Blake, long time no see!"

Bellamy rolls his eyes, since him and Monty hang out almost every weekend. “What’s up, man?”

Monty shrugs. “Not much. First day of school grind, you know how that goes.”

Bellamy nods as he slides into the only available seat left at the table, putting him in between Jasper Jordan and Nathan Miller. “I do, indeed. How’s everyone’s first day going?” He directs the question at the table.

"I have O’Brien for Calc," a girl he knows from classes, Harper, says. She’s not one of the friends he hangs out with after school but she’s pretty cool.

"Damn, he’s tough." Bellamy pushes the mashed potatoes on his tray around with his fork. "I had him last year. Not a fun guy to listen to for an hour and a half three times a week, that’s for sure."

Harper is about to respond when a loud laugh is heard from across the cafeteria and everyone eyes immediately fall on the blonde from this morning.

"Woah," Harper says lowly. "Who is that?"

"Clarke Griffin." Everyone turns to Jasper and Bellamy’s not surprised that he’s the one with the inside info. Jasper somehow seems to know everything about everybody regardless of the fact that he doesn’t run in any of the popular circles. "She just moved here from California."

"Damn," Miller says as he takes in Clarke and her brunette friend, both of whom are now sitting on the edge of one of the tables. "Is that Raven Reyes?"

Jasper nods. “Yeah, Raven met Clarke over the summer. From what I hear, Clarke’s dad died last year and her mom moved them out here. They moved into Raven’s neighborhood like three months ago. I guess Clarke gave Raven a little makeover over the summer.”

"Raven Reyes," Bellamy says questioningly. "Why does that sound so familiar?"

"Jeez, Bell. I swear you live under a rock," Monty laughs. "Raven was in our World History class last year. Remember? Cute and quiet girl in the back?"

"Holy shit." Bellamy remembers Raven now but she definitely didn’t look last year like the confident, laughing girl that is currently perched on a table in front of the captain of the football team. "That’s a big change in less than three months." He narrows his eyes. "She called me a nerd this morning."

Now all eyes are on him.

"Seriously?" Harper asks. "She had like a 3.9 GPA last year, she’s seriously not one to talk."

Bellamy shrugs. “Clarke was with her, maybe she was just trying to act cool. I don’t know, it’s not like it bothered me.”

And it really didn’t. Bellamy has been one of the smartest kids in his class since preschool. When all of the other kids were eating paste and stacking blocks, he was in the corner making up math problems on a dusty old chalkboard. For his third grade science project he designed a working miniature windmill, earning him a five thousand dollar prize that went directly into his college fund.

The learning side of school comes naturally to him. It’s the social side that sometimes proves difficult.

"Why doesn’t that surprise me?" Harper muses and Bellamy’s eyes are once again drawn to Clarke, who now has her arms around the shoulders of John Murphy. "Isn’t that a match made in heaven?"

John Murphy is Hamilton High’s resident bad boy, but as far as Bellamy knows it’s more reputation than actual criminal activity. He did hear about a prank Murphy and his band of delinquent friends played in freshman year that involved the principal, the principal’s car and a massive amount of duct tape but they could never actually pin the crime on Murphy. Since then he’s just been a guy with a bad reputation and a bad attitude to match.

Bellamy watches as Clarke laughs loudly at something before leaning up to press a kiss to Murphy’s lips, her blonde hair falling down her back in wild waves. The act makes something twist in his stomach and he doesn’t know why.

It’s not like he knows Clarke, aside from their encounter that morning.

It’s then that she pulls away from Murphy, glancing over at Bellamy with a wicked gleam in her eye like she’s daring him to say or do something about it.

He isn’t going to, of course, because he’s said precisely six words to this girl and he’s not about to butt into someone else’s life just because he thinks she’s making a mistake by her choice of friends.

Which she is, definitely. John Murphy is not the kind of guy you want to be hanging around with in a new school but he’s certainly not going to tell her that.

He’s a little surprised when he walks into the junior’s history class he’ll be a teacher’s assistant for this semester and sees Clarke already sitting in the back, her leather jacket off and slung over the back of her chair. He was sure that Jasper mentioned her being a senior, like the rest of them, but here she is smack dab in a sea of eleventh graders.

There were two options he could have taken this year, TA for a class or have an open period, and unlike most students, Bellamy would rather be in a classroom than out of one. When he found out that his favorite history teacher Marcus Kane needed a teacher’s assistant he had jumped for the opportunity. History has always been not only Bellamy’s strongest subject but also his favorite. Mr. Kane was the kind of teacher that could actually teach you something, the kind of teacher that cared about his subject and wouldn’t rest until every one of his students cared about it too.

Bellamy can’t help but think that Mr. Kane is going to have his work cut out for him when it comes to Clarke Griffin. It’s obvious she doesn’t want to be there, if the bored look on her face is any indication, and Bellamy watches with mild amusement as she taps her foot impatiently as the class waits for Mr. Kane to start the class.

It doesn’t take long.

“Historía,” Kane says suddenly from where he’s sitting behind his desk and the room quiets when he stands up and faces them. “Who can tell me what that means?”

Bellamy can, obviously, but he stays quiet and waits for someone in the class to raise their hand. No one does and Kane sighs a little before continuing.

”Historía is Greek, meaning ‘to learn or know by inquiry’,” Kane explains, his hands coming to rest behind him as he leans against his large oak desk. “History is what defines us, it is our past and our legacy. To learn about our history we must ask questions, we must inquire or else doom ourselves to a repeated fate.”

Bellamy watches as a few students pull out notebooks and pencils, carefully jotting down every word out of Kane’s mouth for fear it will be on some future test. That was Bellamy last year, he ended the year with almost three notebooks full of notes from this class alone and it helped him pass Kane’s finale with flying colors.

He catches Clarke’s eye when she looks across the room at him and when he holds his hand up like he’s taking notes she rolls her eyes and looks away, her notebook still sitting unopened on the table in front of her.

"Up first this year we’ll be covering the Civil War," Kane is saying and he turns to Bellamy and motions to a stack of papers on his desk. Bellamy picks up the stack while Kane is speaking and hands a few to each student at the first desk of every row. "For those of you that don’t know, this is Bellamy Blake. He’ll be assisting me this year and is an invaluable resource when it comes to passing my class. Use him and use him often."

"Gladly."

Bellamy’s eyes shoot to the back of the room, where Clarke is sitting with a grin on her face and an eyebrow raised like she’s daring him to say something back to her. Mr. Kane silences the snickers and whispers coming from the other students in the room with a stern look.

"Open your books to page thirty-two and let’s get to work."

Kane’s class is the last of the day so as soon as the bell rings everyone else jumps up from their seat, the room now a cacophony of voices and laughter, and Bellamy nods when Mr. Kane holds up a hand to ask him to stay.

"I wanted to talk to you about our new student," Kane explains when the room is finally empty. Bellamy is sitting on top of one of the desks facing Kane, who is once again leaning against his own. "Clarke Griffin."

"What about her?" Bellamy asks.

"Well, I don’t want to get into specifics but I know that Clarke has had a hard year." Bellamy knows this must be about her father but he doesn’t tell Kane that he knows that. "And she’s a senior but she had some issues at her last school so she has to repeat this class."

"Should you be telling me any of this?" Bellamy’s not really clear on the teacher/student confidentiality thing but he’s sure that there is probably something written in the teacher’s manual along the lines of don’t tell anyone your student’s personal business.

Kane just smiles sadly and shakes his head. “Probably not. But I’ve seen Clarke’s work from last year before things went downhill for her and she’s a bright girl. I just think that we should both be available this year, should she need extra help.”

Bellamy nods. “Yeah, of course. I’ll be there for whatever she needs.”

Kane grins and claps him on the back. “Good man! Now, get out of here. Knowing you I’m sure you have a ton of things to do after school. Thanks again for agreeing to be my TA this year, Bellamy. It’s gonna be a good one.”

"Yeah, definitely," Bellamy agrees. "See you on Thursday, Mr. Kane."

Bellamy’s sister, Octavia, is waiting for him at his car when he finally makes it to the parking lot.

"What the hell?" She asks with attitude when he unlocks her door before heading to the driver’s side. "Why are you so late?"

"Watch your language," he responds with an eye roll. Octavia is only a sophomore but her looks and grown up attitude make her appear almost the same age as him. "And I had to stay after class with Mr. Kane."

"Ooh dirty," Octavia says with a laugh and Bellamy glares at her. "I’m just kidding, jeez. Lighten up, Bell."

It’s an ongoing thing with Octavia, her cracking jokes about him being too uptight and him getting pissed off, a perpetual cycle that he wishes would end.

"Just get in the damn car."

Octavia gives him a shocked look when she gets in and pulls the passenger door shut behind her. “Watch your language! Lead by example, big brother.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes as he sticks his key in the ignition. “Like you’d listen even if I did.”

"Probably not," Octavia admits. "But you never know."

He’s just about to pull out of the parking lot when he sees Clarke leaning against John Murphy’s motorcycle, one hand on Murphy’s shoulder and the other in his hair.

"Who is that?" Octavia asks and Bellamy hates that she sounds almost impressed.

"New girl," he responds simply before turning on his blinker and heading out of the parking lot.


	2. clarke

"Clarke Elizabeth Griffin!"

Clarke rolls her eyes, her mother’s shrill voice coming through the half open door of her bedroom. It’s barely seven in the morning, what on Earth is her mother doing screaming so early?

"You need to get up," her mother says, her voice now much closer, and when Clarke looks over at her door she can see that her mom is now standing there. "School starts in less than an hour."

Seriously, Clarke wants to say. Fuck school. Fuck this new school and this new town. Just screw everything, she’s so tired of it all.

"I know, mom," is what she says instead. There’s no use in starting a fight with her mom this early in the morning so she waves her mom out of the room so she can jump in the shower.

Her phone beeps with a text from Raven when she’s blowing out her hair.

We ditching first today again?

Clarke sighs, knowing that the more she ditches school the sooner the school will be calling her mom.

Nah. Don’t want my mom on my case. See you in 30.

It takes her less than five minutes to pick an outfit and get dressed for school. Her closet is still full of the clothes from her old school, her old life, and she passes the pretty sundresses and floral print tops to locate a plain black tank top and a pair of tight skinny jeans. She pairs the jeans with a killer pair of black Army boots and her favorite leather jacket.

Her mother gives her a disapproving look when she comes down the stairs after finishing her makeup and Clarke rolls her eyes as she grabs her keys.

"What, mom?"

"Nothing, you just look…" Clarke narrows her eyes a little as her mother struggles to come up with something to say. "You just don’t look like you, that’s all."

Clarke scoffs. “Sorry, mom. This is me now.”

Raven is waiting on the porch of her house when Clarke pulls up a few minutes later, her lips lined dark red and her hair up in a teased ponytail, and she grins when she jumps into Clarke’s car.

"What do you think?" Raven asks as she points to her hair. "Thought I’d try something new today."

Clarke grins as she puts the car in drive. “Looks good. Anyone in particular you’re trying to impress?”

Raven laughs and shoves Clarke lightly. “Not in our school! High school boys are so lame. I’ve got a date with a guy from State this weekend. He’s gorgeous.”

It’s funny, Clarke thinks as she pulls into a parking spot in the senior lot, that even with a new look, a new life, girl talk somehow never changes.

"You’re lucky you hooked up with Murphy," Raven is saying. "He’s one of the only guys our age even worth looking at."

That’s not entirely true.

"What about that Bellamy kid?" Clarke asks, hoping she sounds less curious than she feels. "What’s his story?"

Raven crinkles her nose a little. “Bellamy Blake?” Clarke nods. “He’s a brain. Gets good grades, definitely not a jock. I guess he’s cute but in that like, super-nerdy-but-doesn’t-wear-glasses kind of way. Why? Are you interested?”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Not even. He’s the TA in my history class.”

Raven laughs. “That doesn’t surprise me. Good luck with that.”

As much as she likes Raven, she’s sort of glad that they don’t share any classes together. It’s nice to just be alone sometimes, something that she hasn’t had a chance to do much since moving here. Her first class of the day is English Lit and while she listens to the teacher drone on about Proust she wishes she had taken Raven up on ditching.

When the bell finally rings for lunch after her math class, she jumps up to head out of the classroom and runs face first into Bellamy Blake’s chest in the hallway.

"Easy there," he says as he steadies her with a hand on her shoulder. "You alright?"

"I’m fine," she says in annoyance as she moves her arm away from his hand. "Maybe you should watch where you’re going."

"But you ran into me," Bellamy says and she hates the hint of amusement in his voice.

"Whatever." It’s not the greatest comeback in the world but she can still feel the ghost of his hand on her bare shoulder and it’s distracting. She turns around so she’s walking backward and Bellamy is still staring at her. "Consider yourself lucky," she says, adding a little flirtation in her voice. "Most guys would kill to have my body pressed against theirs like that."

She doesn’t miss the little flash in Bellamy’s eyes as he stares her down. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

"You do that."

What the hell is she doing? Why is she trying to flirt with a guy like Bellamy Blake? He’s someone the old Clarke would have liked. Hell, he’s someone the old Clarke would have fallen in love with. Cute, responsible, smart. That’s not what she’s looking for anymore. Now she just wants to have fun.

That’s where John Murphy comes in.

He’s waiting for her outside of the lunch room, one knee bent with his steel toed boot resting on the wall behind him. She can see the metal of a flask peeking out from the top of his front pocket.

"Hey babe," he says when she walks up to him, his lips immediately finding hers. "Wanna ditch lunch and get drunk on the football field?"

Clarke laughs but shakes her head no. “I’m actually starving. Let’s go in.”

Murphy rolls his eyes but puts his arm around her shoulders. “So lame but whatever.”

She met Murphy over the summer, on one of her many trips around the town with Raven. They had stopped by a 7-Eleven to score some beer, something Clarke would never had even considered doing two years ago, when they saw Murphy and a few of his friends hanging out in the parking lot. A party was mentioned (“Tons of booze.” Murphy had said) and by the end of the night she was sitting in Murphy’s lap with his tongue down her throat.

He’s good looking, not in the conventional way but in that dangerous way that makes her mother absolutely despise him. It’s a good thing he’s not into coming to her house anyways.

"So there’s a party this weekend," Raven is saying when they sit down at their usual table. Well, usual that it’s the second day of school and they are sitting here again. "Nathan Miller is throwing it."

"Miller?" Fox, one of Murphy’s friends, asks. "He’s a total loser. Why would he be throwing a party?"

"I don’t know," Raven tells her. "But he is and there was a promise of booze so…should we go?"

Clarke knows Miller from her P.E. class. He’s hot, which is why she doesn’t understand why Fox would call him a loser, and when she locates him in the crowded cafeteria she sees him sitting with Bellamy.

"We should go." Everyone at the table looks at her in surprise. "What? Free booze, right?"

Raven looks over at Miller’s table before giving Clarke a look like she knows exactly why Clarke wants to go.

"Then it’s settled," Raven says with a grin and Clarke feels like smacking her. "Miller’s on Friday night."

By Thursday afternoon, Clarke is more than ready for the weekend to begin.

The way her classes are staggered here is weird. She’s used to four classes a semester that she takes every single day. At Hamilton, you take eight classes a semester and they are always on a different schedule. Today she had math, English, P.E. and now history.

Somehow she ends up being the first in the classroom. After Bellamy, of course.

"You’re early," he says with a laugh as she drops into the same seat in the back as her first day of school.

"Obviously," Clarke bites back and watches as Bellamy’s face drops. Shit. She doesn’t mean to snap at him all the time, she honestly couldn’t tell you why she does. But apologizing for everything was the old Clarke, so she just rolls her eyes and leans back in her chair.

"Did you have any problems with the assignment?" Bellamy asks, his voice somehow carrying across the room despite how low his voice is.

"Piece of cake. But thanks for caring," Clarke says sarcastically.

Bellamy narrows his eyes a little before standing up. “What is your prob…” He doesn’t get a chance to finish his question because the rest of the class is filing in, the room now full of chatter and laughter before Mr. Kane comes in behind everyone else.

"Open your books to Chapter 3."

Clarke pulls her book out of her bag, thankful that Bellamy wasn’t able to finish his question. Mostly because she would have had no idea how to respond.

***

"Do you think I should wear the fishnets or the striped ones?"

Clarke is barely listening as Raven tosses clothes out of her dresser drawers, her bed now full of brightly colored leggings in various patterns. It’s Friday afternoon and school isn’t even out yet but they ditched last period on account of needing to get ready for Miller’s party that night. They went to Raven’s first because her parents are never home during the day and Clarke knows that her mom is working the night shift at the hospital tonight, which means if she shows up before school is officially out, she’s dead.

"Clarke!" Raven cries and Clarke wants to laugh at the frazzled look on her friend’s face. "You’re not even paying attention!"

It’s times like these that Clarke can see the Raven that she met when she first moved here. She was quiet, shy and insecure. She’s came out of her shell a lot since they became friends and while Clarke was a little surprised when Raven started dressing edgier, she thinks Raven was just looking for a way to fit in with someone.

"I’m sorry," Clarke says sincerely as she looks at the two pairs of leggings that Raven is holding up. "If you’re wearing the black dress, go with the fishnets."

"Thank you!" Raven throws the fishnets in the overnight bag she’s bringing to Clarke’s, where they will be getting ready for the party, and pulls the black dress she’ll be wearing out of her closet. "So…about this party tonight…"

"Yeah, what about it?"

Raven is grinning as she folds the dress carefully and sets it in her bag. “Bellamy will be there.”

Clarke rolls her eyes as she leans back against Raven’s headboard. “And I care because…?”

It’s Raven’s turn to roll her eyes. “Oh give me a break. You think he’s hot. Stop denying it.”

"I don’t think he’s hot," Clarke says, obviously unconvincingly because Raven just raises an eyebrow. "Okay, fine! He’s hot! Whatever…it’s not like it matters. I’m not trying to fuck him, he just sort of amuses me."

"Amuses you how?"

"I don’t know," Clarke answers truthfully. "He’s so straight laced. Reminds me a lot of the guys I knew back home."

Raven comes to sit beside her on the bed. “You don’t talk about California much.”

Because it’s too hard, Clarke thinks, but she just shrugs.

"It’s whatever. It was my home, now it’s not." This conversation is borderline too much for her so she sits up quickly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed as she reaches for her phone. "It’s almost three-thirty. Let’s go to my house."

It’s a short drive to Clarke’s new house, only a block and a half away from Raven’s, and Clarke pulls her car into the driveway next to her mom’s. Both girls know to be quiet when they walk into the house and Clarke is careful when she pulls the door shut behind her.

"When is your mom off the night shift?" Raven asks when they are inside Clarke’s room with the bedroom door shut tight behind them. Clarke’s mom’s room is on the other side of the house so they don’t have to worry about being quiet once the door is shut.

"Next week, I think." Clarke flips her stereo on low before opening her closet doors. "I don’t know what to wear."

She’s just deciding on which skirt to wear when her phone buzzes from her nightstand. It’s from Murphy.

Not going to the party tonight. Wanna get drunk at the beach instead?

Clarke rolls her eyes and shows the text to Raven.

"What an asshole," Raven says as she polishes one of her nails dark red. "He knows we wanted to go to this party."

"Fuck him," Clarke says as she types out a response.

Nope. We’re hitting the party anyways. Later.

Murphy doesn’t respond for a while and when he does it’s less than appealing.

Whatever then. Have fun with those fucking losers. Peace.

Clarke rolls her eyes. “I think I’m over Murphy,” she says as she slides the leather mini skirt she’s chosen to wear up her legs.

"Really?" Raven asks, holding a finished hand out in front of her to examine her work.

"Yeah, he’s a total drag. All he wants to do is screw around and get drunk."

Raven laughs. “Isn’t that what tonight was all about?”

Clarke thinks about this for a minute. “I guess but now I suppose I’ll just have to find someone else to entertain me tonight.”

"Like Bellamy Blake, perhaps?"

Clarke doesn’t say anything, completely ignoring the mischievous look on Raven’s face. If Bellamy Blake happens to be at this party tonight, then so be it. If he happens to let loose a little bit, get drunk and flirt with Clarke, then so be it.

And if she happens to end up in the backseat of her car, with Bellamy’s hands tangled up in her curls…

So be it.


	3. bellamy

It only takes fifteen minutes for him to regret coming to this party.

He’s not a square, don’t get him wrong. He knows how to let loose and has been known to drink a beer or three at a party. There’s just a vibe at this one that he’s not feeling right now, like something wicked this way comes and even though he can’t put his finger on it it’s making him a little uncomfortable. 

“Dude! Why aren’t you drinking?!” 

Bellamy rolls his eyes as Miller stumbles over to him, one hand gripping a Bud Light like it’s going to grow legs and run away. 

“I’m DD tonight, remember?” Bellamy motions towards Monty, who is currently nursing a Corona and talking quietly with Harper. The two have always been friendly but Bellamy makes a mental note to ask his best friend if there might be something more there than he’s letting on. “Where’s Bryan?” 

Miller shrugs, looking around the crowded room to see where his boyfriend is. “Who knows? That kid gets some vodka in him and suddenly he’s a social butterfly. I’m sure he’s out back with his brothers.” 

His brothers being his frat brothers, Bellamy is assuming, because Bryan is a freshman at the state college outside of their small town. Miller started dating Bryan almost right after he came out, when he was a sophomore and Bryan was a senior. Bellamy knows the distance strains their relationship a bit, with Bryan living almost an hour away, but he’s never seen a more stable couple than those two.

“Have you seen your girl yet?” Miller asks with a grin and even though Bellamy knows exactly who he’s talking about he figures playing dumb is his best course of action at this point.

“My girl?” Miller just raises an eyebrow and Bellamy chuckles as he shakes his head. “I haven’t seen her, no. And she’s not my girl, she’s just a girl.” 

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy.” Miller dodges out of the way when Bellamy goes to punch him in the shoulder and he can still hear his loud laughter as Miller makes his way through the swarm of people in the living room. 

He’s sipping on a Cherry Coke a little while later watching Monty and Jasper compete in a game of quarters when he hears the front door open and close. Without looking he knows its Clarke, he can practically feel her eyes on his back. His theory is confirmed when Jasper looks up before looking at Bellamy and then back to the door, all the while displaying a little smirk that can’t mean anything good. 

It’s then that he realizes his friends have been talking about him and Clarke behind his back.

“What’s that look for?” He asks Jasper, who just laughs around the rim of his solo cup, and Bellamy rolls his eyes as he leans back in his chair. 

He knows what they all think, that he’s a bit of a loner that hasn’t dated anyone seriously in a while. His last girlfriend Gina moved away the summer before junior year and he hasn’t really taken the time to get to know anyone else since then. There have been dates here or there but nothing substantial. He’s not even sure he wants anything serious. Princeton is less than a year away and why get involved in something here when he’s just going to be moving right after summer ends.

It’s just not practical.

Except when he finally turns around and catches her eye it’s as if every sensible bone in his body is replaced with a rebellious one. 

It’s like she’s sin incarnate. Black leather mini skirt that make her already long legs look ten miles long. Studded black heels that would probably look ridiculous on anyone else but on her look sleek and almost classy, albeit a little deadly. He can see black lace bra straps underneath the straps of her tight white tank top and hell if it isn’t the sexiest thing he’s ever seen in his life. Her blonde hair is down and curly, red lipstick covering her full pouty lips, and there’s a good chance he’s in deep, deep trouble.

He knows he’s been caught staring when she smirks at him, raising one perfectly sculpted eyebrow in his amusement and he rolls his eyes before turning back to his friends. 

“Dude…” Jasper says but Bellamy raises his hand to shut him up. “I’m just saying, Bell. She’s hot, man.” 

He glances over his shoulder one more time, sees Clarke laugh at something Raven says, her head tilted back happily, and can’t help but agree.

***

Not even an hour later he finds out exactly why he had a bad feeling about this party.

He’s stayed clear of Clarke until now, not necessarily by choice but because they run in two different circles and their paths just haven’t crossed.

Until he’s in the kitchen grabbing another bottle of Coke from the fridge at the same time she walks in to freshen up her drink. 

“Well, well, well.” 

He closes his eyes when he hears her voice behind him. It’s a little unnerving being around her. He’s never certain if she’s going to get on his case or flirt with him. To be honest, he’s not really sure which he likes more. 

“Wanna grab one of those for me?” Clarke asks him when she sees the bottle of Coke in his hand. 

Bellamy smirks. “Aren’t you drinking tonight?” He licks his lips when she brings her cup up to her mouth, taking a long slow drink as she watches him over the rim.

“I need to be topped off,” she says with a sly grin and Bellamy bites back a groan. What is it about this girl that makes him want to lose all self control? She holds her cup up to him and smiles. “Wanna do the honors?” 

He chuckles softly as he tilts his bottle towards her glass. “Tell me when to stop.” 

“I doubt I’d ever tell you to stop,” she says and he raises an eyebrow as he fills her glass up halfway, leaving room for the ice and vodka she’s sure to add later, and it takes her a second to notice his expression. “What?” 

Bellamy shrugs as he leans against the counter. “Aren’t you with John Murphy?” 

“I’m not with anyone,” she explains with a smile. “I don’t date.” 

“And why’s that?” 

Don’t ask him why he’s curious because he couldn’t tell you. There’s just someone under the surface of her tough exterior, someone he thinks he would like to know if she decided to show him. 

“Love is pointless,” she says seriously. He watches something flash in her eyes, hurt maybe, but she doesn’t elaborate. She sighs like she’s bored and sets her cup on the counter. “So you wanna get out of here?” 

It’s such a one eighty that it makes him choke as he’s taking a drink of his soda. “Excuse me?” 

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Come on, history boy. You wanna…I don’t know…what did the kids used to call it? Blow this popsicle stand? Go somewhere quiet to talk?” She makes finger quotes around the word talk and smiles a little wickedly as she waits for his answer. 

“I’m the designated driver,” he says dumbly and immediately regrets it because she laughs at him. Not just a little laugh either, she full out holds her stomach and laughs. “Okay…you don’t have to…it’s not that funny…” 

“I’m sorry,” she says breathlessly. As much as it annoys him that she’s laughing at him it’s also the first time he’s seen her be real. “It’s just…you really are a nerd, aren’t you?” 

Now he’s not amused.

“Look, I’m not a fucking nerd okay?” The curse causes her to stop laughing abruptly, as if he slapped her to get her to quit. “Just because I do well in school and care about my grades and college, doesn’t make me a nerd. It means I have goals and responsibilities. Unlike you, apparently.” 

He goes to walk around her but her voice behind him makes him pause before he reaches the door.

“You don’t know me.” She’s shooting daggers at him when he turns around to face her again. “You might think you do, history boy, but you don’t know a damn thing about me.” 

“Clarke,” he starts when she pushes past him. “Clarke, come on!” 

It doesn’t matter what he says though because she’s already out the door. 

He’s just about to leave not only the kitchen but this entire party when he hears yelling coming from the living room. Miller’s voice can be heard loudly, telling someone to back off, and Bellamy is pushing off the counter and heading into the other room without thinking twice.

“Get the fuck away from me, Murphy!”

Bellamy hears Clarke’s voice before he even sees what is happening and her worried tone makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. There is a big group of people, half of them drunk and cheering and half of them ready to jump in and help, although from here Bellamy can’t tell which side they would be helping. 

When he finally breaks through the wall of bodies he sees Clarke standing in front of Murphy, Raven standing scared and shaken behind her and next to Jasper, who looks like he’s ready to strike. Miller is between Clarke and Murphy, his hands up between them as he tries to keep everyone calm. 

“Look, man. The lady doesn’t want you here,” Miller is saying. “So why don’t you grab your happy band of idiots and get the fuck out of my house.” 

Bellamy watches in horror as Murphy reaches for Clarke’s arm, yanking it so hard towards him that it makes her yelp. “As soon as my girl here agrees to come with me, I’ll leave.”   
Clarke tries to yank her arm out of Murphy’s grasp but he’s stronger than she is and it just ends up making her cry out in pain. “God damn it, John! Let me go!” 

“Enough!” 

Bellamy steps forward, his arm shooting out to grab Murphy by the front of his t shirt, making him drop Clarke’s arm in the process. 

“Touch her again and you’ll have to answer to me.” He uses his most intimidating voice, something he’s never had to do before but it seems to do the trick because Murphy looks both ways at his friends quickly before locking eyes with him again.

“Give me a break, loser. Like you’re going to do anything to me. You don’t want anything to hurt your precious reputation.” 

Bellamy wavers for a second because it’s mostly true. Fighting would look bad to Princeton and he can’t do anything to jeopardize his scholarship. 

“Just stay away from Clarke,” Bellamy says seriously. “Unless she wants you around, which I highly doubt she will after your little display tonight.” 

Murphy looks over his shoulder to Clarke, and even though Bellamy can’t see her face he’d guess that she’s probably silently agreeing with him. 

“Whatever,” Murphy says offhandedly. “I was getting bored of her anyways.” 

“Oh, you son of a bitch!” 

Before he knows what’s happening Clarke is flying over him, rearing her hand back to punch Murphy in the face. 

“What the fuck!” Murphy staggers back, his nose flowing with blood, and when he takes a step towards Clarke, it’s not just Bellamy that steps forward. Jasper, Monty, Miller & Bryan are all right behind him, daring him to do something about it. 

“Let’s just go,” Murphy’s friend says from behind him and Bellamy watches in amusement as Murphy wipes blood from his face before stalking towards the front door. 

“Damn, slugger.” Bellamy laughs as Jasper congratulates Clarke on her right hook. “You knocked the fuck out of him!” 

“Maybe that will teach him how to talk to a lady,” Clarke says, hissing as she looks at her now bruised knuckles.

Bellamy reaches for her hand. “Come on,” he says softly and he can see her walls fall a little as she looks up at him. “Let’s go get you cleaned up.” 

She hops up onto the counter once they are in the downstairs bathroom and Bellamy starts searching for the first aid kit he knows Miller’s mom keeps in here. There were lots of times they would get cuts and bruises as kids and she would send them in here to patch themselves back up.

“Thanks for defending me or whatever,” Clarke says and Bellamy chuckles as he locates the white and blue box from under the sink. “I could have dealt with it myself though.” 

“Oh, I know.” He says with a look at her hand. “Remind me never to piss you off.” 

Clarke laughs. “Yeah, or you’ll have to answer to these bad boys,” she says as she fakes a punch in his direction. Making a fist must hurt because she winces. “Damn, that hurts. How do MMA fighters deal with this shit every day?” 

“Practice,” Bellamy says as he cleans her knuckles with a damp cloth. “This is going to hurt too. I’m sorry.” 

She yelps in pain when he pours peroxide over the wounds, her teeth clenching as it bubbles over her skin. “Jesus, yeah that hurts worse than punching him did.” 

“What’s the deal with you two anyways?” Bellamy goes about cleaning her hand without looking at her and it takes her a minute before she answers. 

“Classic tale, you know. Boy meets girl at a party. Girl kisses boy behind bleachers. Boy can’t catch a hint when she’s over it. Every teen rom com, basically.” 

“Right,” he says with a chuckle as he wraps gauze around her fingers. 

“How’d you get so good at this anyhow?” He looks up to see her watching him carefully. “My mom’s a doctor,” she explains. “I could have done this in my sleep but you’re doing a good job.” 

He grins. “Thanks. And we used to get into a lot of shit as kids. Skateboarding off Miller’s roof and using Jasper’s trampoline in ways it was never meant to be used.” She doesn’t laugh at the joke and he looks up to see her watching him curiously. “What?” 

“You swore again.” 

“What, I can’t swear?” Bellamy asks, taping off the gauze and standing up from where he was sitting on the closed toilet seat. 

“No, you can. Obviously. It’s just…” 

He watches in amusement as she falters, like saying whatever she wants to say is going to break some imaginary boundary.

“It’s just…what?” 

“Sexy,” she says and he notices that there is no wicked flirt in her tone. No innuendos or banter. Just the fact that she finds him sexy. And no one has ever called him that before.

They don’t say anything else until she gets off the counter and wavers a bit. He grabs a hold of her elbow to help her steady herself.

“Easy there, champ.” She swats at his arm when she stands up straight and he laughs. “Let me take you and Raven home.” 

She tries to argue with him but he holds his hand up. “You’re not paying for a cab and you’re sure as hell not driving. So let me take you home.” 

When he looks down at her she licks her lips as her eyes drop down to his mouth. He didn’t mean it like that, of course, but now it’s obvious they are both thinking about it. 

“Okay,” she says without too much of a fight and he can tell that all of the events of tonight are catching up to her. Her eyeliner is a little smudged and her hair is kinked and extra curly at the ends from her sweating and then it drying again. She still looks gorgeous. “Lead the way, history boy.” 

Bellamy rolls his eyes at the nickname as he walks ahead of her into the living room, rounding up his friends to get their stuff together so he can take them home. 

“We have two more,” he tells Jasper and immediately regrets it because his friend starts waggling his eyebrows suggestively. “Jesus, Jasper. Please keep it to yourself in the car, okay?” 

“I promise to be good,” Jasper says drunkenly, his hand coming up to make the boy scouts honor symbol in front of his chest. “I was never a scout myself but I watched plenty of movies and I know this is legit.” 

“You’re a lunatic,” Monty says with a laugh, coming up besides Jasper and putting an arm around his shoulder. “We’ll all be good, Bell. Don’t worry.” 

It takes almost twenty minutes to get all six people in his car and he’s thankful again that he convinced his mom that he needed an SUV and not a coupe. Monty had ridden in the front with him on the way to Miller’s but somehow Clarke ends up there on the way home and when Bellamy glares at Monty through the rear view mirror, his best friend just shrugs innocently and turns back to talk to Jasper and Raven about their shared math class. 

“Nice truck,” Clarke says as she stretches her legs out and toes off her heels, letting them fall onto the floor of the passenger side. She giggles a little when she catches him staring at her. “Watch the road, Bellamy.” 

It’s the first time he’s heard her use his real name. Not history boy or nerd or whatever other nickname she calls him and he grips the steering wheel tighter and hopes she doesn’t notice. Her soft chuckle tells him that she did and he wants to punch himself for being so transparent.

“Birthday present,” he says out of nowhere and she raises an eyebrow. “The truck. My mom got it for me for my birthday.” 

Clarke nods appreciatively. “Nice mom.” 

“The best,” Bellamy says out of reflex and he’d be embarrassed but he can see Clarke smile a little as she looks out her passenger window. 

She gives him directions to her place and when he pulls up to her driveway she goes to open her door but stops.

“You’re a good guy. Aren’t you, history boy?” 

Bellamy shrugs at the out of the blue question. “I don’t know. I guess. Why?” 

He’s surprised when she leans over and brushes her lips against his cheek, speaking in his ear so only he can hear. 

“Because I’m the kind of girl that can ruin you, Bellamy Blake.” 

His cheek is burning when she pulls away and she opens her door, saying thank you loudly enough for the whole car to hear, and then he’s watching her walk up to her house with a swaying Raven in tow.

He doesn’t pull away until she’s safely inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Only took me a year to update!! >


	4. Clarke

She wakes up Saturday morning with the hangover from hell and her hand throbbing from punching the shit out of Murphy the night before. 

Raven is asleep in bed next to her so Clarke eases herself from under her comforter and pads quietly to her bathroom. After downing three aspirin and two full glasses of water she feels minutely better so she runs the shower and carefully goes about undoing the bandages on her bruised hand. 

There might have been a lot of liquor in her body last night but she won’t forget the way Bellamy took care of her, cleaning and bandaging her hand after she taught that jerk Murphy a lesson. 

What a creep that guy is too. Who talks about a woman like that and thinks he can just get away with it? Her hand might hurt like a motherfucker today but at least he knows not to talk shit about her anymore. 

And damn. Bellamy getting in his face and telling him to leave her alone didn’t suck either. 

Just when she thinks she has this guy figured out he goes and does something so damn hot that it has her questioning everything she’s been fighting against for months.

When she’s done with her shower she makes quick work of re bandaging her hand and works out a story to tell her mom when she inevitably asks how she did it. She hopes her mom will believe that she accidentally slammed her hand against the wall and then briefly considers just wearing gloves for the next week or so. 

Raven is awake when she walks back into her room and there’s a brief moment where Clarke can see the girl she met months ago, the one who was tired of being the smart girl, the dependable girl. Her hair is disheveled, pulled loose from the high ponytail she had it in the night before and her makeup is smudged across her eyelids, giving her raccoon eyes that are only half open against the raging sunlight of Clarke’s bedroom.

“Mornin’,” Raven mumbles as she snuggles back down into Clarke’s bed. “Why are you even up? It’s like the ass crack of dawn.” 

Clarke laughs and climbs back into her bed, getting her pillow completely soaked from her wet hair but she doesn’t care. Her head is still pounding a little and lying down seems like a great idea. 

“It’s almost noon,” she says with a smile as she gets back under her blankets. Her room is still decorated like old Clarke, bright colored bedspread and a hundred or more throw pillows. Trophies from her old drill team line the walls on shelves her mom installed when they moved here. She thought that having the same room would make Clarke feel more at home. All it does it make her feel like an impostor living someone else’s life. 

“Whatever,” Raven laughs as she lies on her side so she’s facing Clarke. “So what the hell happened last night?” 

Clarke groans and flops onto her back. “Ugh, Murphy is an asshat. I can’t believe he showed up to that party!” 

“I’m not talking about Murphy.” Clarke looks over at her friend, who’s just looking at her innocently. “You like Bellamy.” 

Clarke shakes her head. “No, I don’t like Bellamy. Would I show him a good time? Yeah, totally he’s hot. But I do not like him. I don’t do relationships, you know that.” 

What Raven doesn’t know is why she doesn’t do relationships. She’s had exactly two serious ones in her life, one with a boy named Finn when she was a freshman and the other was Lexa. 

Lexa was the first girl she ever dated, the first girl she ever did anything with, and the best thing that came out of that relationship was Clarke discovering who she really was. The relationship itself wasn’t the best but it wasn’t the worst either. It just sort of ended. Clarke was heartbroken, even more so than with Finn, and then after her dad…

Well let’s just say she’s not really trying to give her heart away to anyone at this point in her life. Maybe ever. 

She could probably tell all of that to Raven, and her friend would understand, but they haven’t been friends that long and Clarke isn’t quite ready to let her walls down with anyone yet. 

“Yeah,” Raven agrees as she slides a hair tie off her wrist to pull her long black hair into a tighter pony tail. “But Bellamy is gorgeous, and he’s wicked smart so he probably won’t be staying in town long.” 

Clarke narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?” 

“He’s probably going to some fancy college after he graduates. So it’s not like he’s going to be looking for anything long term.” 

Now that’s something she hadn’t considered. Bellamy is one of the smartest people in their school and Raven is right. There is no way in hell Bellamy is going to end up some townie, stuck in Hamilton like ninety five percent of the kids in their high school. No, he’s getting out and probably as soon as possible. Just like she plans to do. 

“You’re thinking about it.” 

Clarke’s eyes dart back to Raven, who’s wiggling her eyebrows and giving her a knowing smirk.

“Whatever.” 

Not the most clever response apparently because Raven just laughs and laughs until Clarke joins in.

***

“Clarke, where’s your car?” 

Shit. 

It’s not until Raven has already left to get ready for her college boy date and her mom comes home from work that she realizes she left her car parked in front of Nathan Miller’s house. 

“Umm…” 

Her mom sighs and drops into the chair next to her at the kitchen table, where Clarke had been enjoying an late lunch of leftover enchiladas. Now she feels like she’s about to puke. Not from the hangover but from the look on her mother’s face. 

“Were you drinking?” 

The tone of her mom’s voice tells her everything she needs to know. That her mom isn’t a fucking idiot and knows exactly what Clarke was up to last night. No use in lying. 

“Yes.” 

Her mom sighs again and Clarke stops her before she can say anything.

“But I was with Raven and a bunch of kids from school that I know and trust. And I got a ride home! See…responsible!” 

Her mother narrows her eyes. “A seventeen year old girl getting drunk at a house party is not responsible, Clarke. And who exactly brought you home?” 

Clarke groans, not wanting to get into this with her mom now or ever. “Just this guy from school.” She watches as her mom’s eyes narrow even more (seriously, how does she do that and still see?) and Clarke knows exactly   
what she’s thinking. “Relax mom, it’s not John Murphy. Him and I are done.” 

Its then her mom notices the bandages on her hands. “I take it this has something to do with that?” She carefully picks up Clarke’s hand, her thumb brushing gently across the top of her covered fingers. 

Double shit. 

She should have known her mom would put two and two together.

“He said some unkind things to me and paid for it. But don’t worry, I had backup.” Clarke smiles when she remembers Bellamy and his friends standing behind her, ready to beat the shit out of Murphy if he even breathed in her direction wrong. 

Her mom must notice her smile because her face softens when she asks, “Would that happen to be the boy that drove you home last night?” 

“Yeah, but it’s not a big deal,” Clarke says as she pushes away from the table. “I’ll get someone to come get me so I can go get my car.” 

She kisses her mom on the head as she passes her and it’s not until she’s back in her room that she realizes that everyone she knows is either busy (Raven) or dead to her (Murphy). 

Who in the hell can she get to drive her to Miller’s house?

An idea pops into her head but she immediately pushes it aside. There is one other person she knows in this town but even if she did want to call and ask for his help she doesn’t have his number. 

But then another idea pops in her head. 

Maybe he has a Facebook, and maybe if she’s lucky, he’s one of those weird people that attaches his number to his profile. It’s a stretch but it doesn’t hurt to try. 

It’s not as hard to find him on Facebook as she thought it might be. Raven is friends with Jasper Jordan, who’s friends with Miller who’s friends with Bellamy. His profile picture is him and a dog, his shaggy hair (Bellamy’s, not the dog's) wild and curly and a pair of dark Wayfarer sunglasses down over his eyes. He looks so hot it’s criminal and Clarke wonders where this guy has been hiding. 

And lo and behold, there is his phone number. Clarke sighs in relief as she reaches for her phone from her bedside. 

I’m not a stalker, I promise.

Not the best opening line but for now it’s all she’s got.

Fair enough. So if not a stalker, who then?

She smiles. You tell me, history boy.

It takes only a minute before her phone vibrates and she laughs out loud when she reads his response. 

Ah, if it isn’t the Champ herself. How’s the hand today, Rocky?

I’m managing. Look I know this is fucking random as hell but I sort of need a favor. 

She thinks it’s a little weird that he hasn’t even asked how she got his number. Maybe he realizes his number is online for any nutball to find or maybe he just doesn’t care.

So…

Clarke rolls her eyes as she types in her response.

Well, since someone made me leave my car at his friend’s house last night I am currently without transportation. 

He writes back with Raven? 

Date. And obviously Murphy is a trash bag and completely out of the question. That leaves you, history boy.

A couple of minutes pass and Clarke thinks for sure he’s about to tell her no way. He owes her nothing, they aren’t even friends. She is beginning to question why she even bothered when her phone vibrates again. 

I’ll be there in fifteen.

She hasn’t even had a chance to respond when he sends another message right after that.

And stop fucking calling me that.

Her mind flashes to a conversation they had the night before, with her telling him that she thought it was sexy when he swore. She wonders if maybe that’s why he dropped the f bomb in there.

Like she needs a reminder of how attracted she is to him. 

He’s right on time, fifteen minutes later on the dot. It doesn’t surprise her in the slightest. He seems like the kind of guy that’s always on time. Always stops at stop signs for the full three seconds and always looks both ways before crossing the street. Bellamy Blake is a Good Guy ™. 

There’s a part of her that hates that. There’s a bigger part that can’t help wanting to corrupt him.

Her plan is to make it out of the house before Bellamy has a chance to come up to her door. Being a good guy, he’s probably great with moms and the last thing she needs in her life is her mother getting the wrong idea. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Griffin.” 

Clarke groans as she walks into the foyer, hearing Bellamy’s voice and her mom’s light laughter. Yep, good with moms.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Bellamy. Clarke should be down any…oh! There she is now!” 

Her mom gives her an approving look and flashes her a thumbs up over Bellamy’s shoulder when he turns to her and Clarke rolls her eyes. 

“You ready?” Clarke asks in a rush and reaches for her boots next to the door. Bellamy just nods and watches in amusement as she hops around the foyer on one foot. When she almost falls he reaches out to steady her and she feels like her skin is on fire when his hand comes in contact with her bare elbow.

“Careful,” he says softly and when she glances up and into his eyes it’s then that she decides she’s not finishing this school year without hooking up with this boy. 

He’s perfect. Painfully so, in fact. Navy blue plaid shirt buttoned up over a plain white shirt. Dark wash blue jeans falling just right over a pair of Vans. And glasses, square and black framed, are perched on his nose. She’s never seen him in glasses before. It suits him. 

“Let’s go, history boy.” 

Her mom raises an eyebrow at the nickname and Clarke laughs as Bellamy scowls. 

“It was nice again to meet you, Dr. Griffin.” Bellamy reaches out to shake her mom’s hand. “I’ll make sure Clarke gets home safe.” 

“Thank you, Bellamy.” Her mom winks at her before they walk out the front door and Clarke thinks if she rolls her eyes any harder they will fall out of her head. 

“Jesus, that woman.” 

Bellamy chuckles behind her. “I like her.” 

Clarke snorts. “You would.” Her eyes widen when Bellamy opens the passenger door of his SUV for her but then she realizes she isn’t really surprised. Nice guys do things like open doors for women. She doesn’t say anything until he’s in the driver’s seat and putting the truck into gear. “And how do you know she’s a doctor?” 

Bellamy looks a little uncomfortable as he pulls out of her driveway and onto her street. “Umm…Jasper told me.” 

Clarke grins smugly. “So you’re talking to your friends about me?” 

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “No, more like they like to talk to me about you.” 

“And why’s that?” 

He shrugs. “They think I like you. Or that I should.” 

She’s not used to guys being so direct and honest with her. Most guys would have brushed that off or lied. 

“And what do you think?” 

Her memory flashes to them in this very same place last night, her lips brushing right up against his ear as she whispered something she can barely remember now in the light of day. 

His eyes darken as he looks at her and she knows that he must remember since he was stone cold sober.

“I think whatever happens, happens.” 

It sounds more like a promise than anything else.

He doesn’t drag his eyes away from her until he’s forced to look at the road and when she leans back into her seat she can practically feel the tension radiating between the two of them. The air is charged and she knows that a tiny spark will set this whole thing ablaze. 

She wonders who’s gonna strike the first match.


	5. bellamy

If there’s one thing he wasn’t expecting it was for Clarke Griffin to be in his car again.

Last night still feels like something out of a dream. Clarke’s fingers tapping against the window as “Bleeding Out” by Imagine Dragons poured out from the speakers. The way her long legs stretched forever when she toed those ridiculous studded heels off. The soft little moan that escaped when she flexed her toes in their absence.

_“Because I’m the kind of girl that can ruin you, Bellamy Blake.”_

Her lips against his cheek. Her breath hot against his skin.

That one simple statement, his full name coming from her lips damn near the sexiest thing he’d ever heard, it almost ruined him all on its own.

He doesn’t know what this girl is doing to him. One minute she’s driving him up a wall and the next he’s wishing he could push her against one.

Now she’s here again, all ripped denim and faded black leather, and he doesn’t know which way he’s currently leaning.

“What is this?”

Her curious voice pulls him from his thoughts and she’s looking at him expectantly when he slides his eyes over to her.

“What is what?”

She rolls her eyes and gestures towards his radio. “The music, obviously.”

“Oh.” He reaches over to turn up the radio a little and smiles. “It’s called ‘Werewolf’.”

He watches as her eyes flutter closed, her lips parted slightly, and damn if she’s not the most gorgeous girl he’s ever seen.

“Who sings it?” She asks, her eyes not opening as she lets the music wash over her. It’s like she’s feeling every lyric and he loves that because music does the same thing to him. People might not realize it by looking at him but he’s sort of a music snob. He absolutely hates everything on the radio and if he does listen to a mainstream band, it’s usually the songs no one knows about.

“Cat Power,” he answers quietly. She’s still just reveling in the beat and he is having a hell of a time focusing on the road.

“It’s intoxicating.” She opens her eyes then and locks them with his. “Sensual.” 

Bellamy licks his lips, not knowing how to respond to that. He could say the same thing about her, if he’s being honest.

“Glad you like it,” he says roughly, clearing his throat as he focuses on the road ahead. It’s starting to get dark, the short drive to Miller’s seeming to last forever, but he can’t find it in himself to mind. What he would mind though is running off the road because he’s too busy staring at the beautiful woman sitting in his passenger seat.

They ride in mostly comfortable silence the rest of the way to his friend’s house and when they pull up out front he sees the curtain in Miller’s living room window move and a hand waving at him through the glass. He had texted him on the way to let him know not to be alarmed if he heard Clarke’s car start up and take off and Bellamy chuckles when he sees that Miller obviously isn’t going to come out to say hello.

“He must still be hung over,” Bellamy laughs as he motions towards the house.

“Or he’s trying to give you more alone time with me.” She smirks when he doesn’t say anything. “You wanna get out of here?”

He barks out a laugh.”Déjà vu.”

“What do you mean?” Her eyes are narrowed and curious and it’s obvious she doesn’t remember all the bits and pieces from their night before.

“You asked me the same thing last night. In the kitchen.”

He can practically see the moment that she remembers the moment he’s talking about.

“Oh yeah,” she says with a laugh. “But that’s not the ‘getting out of here’ that I had in mind.”

“So what did you have in mind?”

She smiles widely as she opens the door, leaning through the open window once she closes it behind her.

“Follow me if you want to find out.”

***

“How have you only lived in this town for a few months and you already know more about it than I do?”

Clarke laughs as she drags a french fry through the puddle of ketchup on her plate. “It’s just a diner, history boy. Not the lost city of Atlantis.”

Bellamy smirks around his milkshake straw. “Is that a history reference because you think I’m a nerd?”

“It’s not really history if it’s a myth but no, that’s not why I think you’re a nerd.”

His heart does something stupid when she smiles at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “But you do think that about me?”

Clarke shrugs one leather clad shoulder up. “I don’t think you’re a nerd in a bad way. More of in a ‘I’ve never fucked a girl behind a McDonald’s way’” She laughs at him when he chokes on his milkshake. “See, that response is why I call you a nerd.”

“I don’t know anyone that would do that,” he sputters, chocolate ice cream freezing his throat. “Wait…have you done that?”

“Now, Bellamy,” she chastises. “A gentleman should never ask a lady where she’s engaged in sexual activity.”

He flushes, and he fucking hates that she’s caused him to blush. It’s not as if he’s a virgin, not by any stretch of the word thanks to his time with Gina, but she’s obviously more experienced than him and it’s making him nervous as hell.

_Get it together, Blake._

“I haven’t though, for the record,” she says quietly, her eyes focused outside the window instead of on him. “I’m not a fan of public indecency charges on my record.”

Bellamy snorts. “Who is?”

“Plenty of people,” she says with a hint of annoyance in her voice and now he realizes that someone must have propositioned her to do that exact thing sometime in the past. Probably Murphy, the perv.

“Well, I’m not either,” he says needlessly, maybe just to reiterate the fact that he’s nothing like her douchebag ex. “But I’m not a choir boy, either.”

“No?” Clarke’s eyebrow goes up, her lips curling into a sexy smirk when he shakes his head. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Shoot.”

She leans forward, her arms resting in front of her on the table and it takes every bit of his self control not to sneak a peek down her low cut black tank top.

“Are you corruptible, history boy?”

He can feel the pull, like battle lines have been drawn in the sand and it’s time to choose a side.

On one side he’s safe, Princeton in his future and Hamilton in his rear view. No one to distract him, no one to complicate things.

On the other side is Clarke. Sexy and alluring. Pretty rough edges wrapped in a tight skirt.

Dangerous.

He licks his lips, leans forward as he takes the plunge from responsible to reckless. Meets her eye to eye over the table, their lips almost touching as he lowers his voice to a whisper.

“Depends on who’s doing the corrupting.”

Her eyes dart from his eyes down to his lips and back again and then she’s kissing him, dragging his bottom lip between her teeth before sliding her tongue against his.

“We should take this somewhere else,” he groans as she yanks him towards her harder.

“And why would we do that?”

Bellamy grins and brushes his lips across hers. “Public decency laws, remember?”

He loves the way she laughs against his mouth. “Your car or mine?”

Forty minutes later they are parked at The Bluff, a make out spot he’s familiar with but hasn’t actually driven to on account of the fact that he’s never been the typical horny teenage boy.

Clarke is on his lap, straddling his waist with her hands in his hair, and she tastes so fucking good he doesn’t know how he’s going to stop this before it goes too far.

“We should slow down,” he says even though it’s the last thing he wants to do. She’s been grinding on him for a solid fifteen minutes and he needs release more than he needs to take his next breath.

“Why in the fuck would we slow down?” Clarke’s jacket and shirt are lying on the passenger seat of his truck since they started in the front seats but moved quickly to the middle row. She pushes him back so he’s laying down as far as he can go. “I want you, Bellamy. Right here, right now.”

He groans deep in his throat when she reaches around to undo her bra but his hands come up to stop her before she can.

“Clarke, we can’t. Not here. Not like this.”

The way she sits up on him makes him grip her hips, her gorgeous body illuminated in blue by the tiny light from his phone charger.

“Why are you stopping this? I know you want me. I can feel how much you do.” She punctuates her statement by rolling her hips and _fuck_ he’s going to die.

“I do,” he stammers. “I want you so fucking badly. But not like this. Let me take you out on a date.”

It’s almost comical the way she scrambles off his lap except that it’s, you know, _not_. “We talked about this, history boy. I don’t date.”

She starts pulling on her clothes, which he hates but also is definitely needed.He also hates that they are back to stupid nicknames when just a few minutes ago she was breathing his given name against his neck.

“You do realize we kinda already went on a date, right? What do you think tonight was?”

Clarke scowls. “It was cheap diner food and a dirty make out session in the backseat of your truck. Is that a date to you?”

“Well, not exactly but it’s pretty damn close.”

He watches in disappointment as she slides her arms into the sleeves of her jacket, a surefire sign of her getting ready to leave.

“Wait,” he says, his arm darting out to rest a hand on her thigh. “You don’t have to take off just because we’re not going to have sex.”

“And we’ll do what? Talk?” She sneers as she reaches for her purse. “It’s been fun, history boy.”

“Look,” he calls after her when she’s halfway out the door. “I know you’ve had a rough time in the past but that doesn’t mean you have to push me away.”

She’s breathing so hard he can see her chest moving up and down. “What the fuck do you think you know about my rough past?”

_Fuck._

“I…I didn’t mean anything…” He struggles to find words that won’t piss her off, push her away even more than he already has.

Clarke narrows her eyes, crosses her arms over her chest. It’s meant to look intimidating but he can see the flash of hurt in her eyes when she stares him down.

“So you think you know something about me? That I’m the new girl with daddy issues that you can ‘fix’?” She makes air quotes around the word fix and punctuates her question with a roll of her eyes. “Give me a fucking break, Bellamy. You know shit about me and you never will.”

“And whose fault is that, Clarke? Huh?”

He yells after her but its too late because she’s already in her car and driving away from him.

***

They don’t speak to each other at all the next day which is surprising only because her and Raven have decided to join him and his friends at lunch.

Apparently Raven and Jasper go way back thanks to camp and Harper knows her from a few classes over their high school careers. He guesses in his group of friends that’s enough to warrant an invitation to sit with them at lunch.

Except he knows that this is Jasper’s doing, a way to force him and Clarke into the same space. Bellamy wants to kick himself for texting Monty last night about his time with Clarke. It was just unlike him to do something like that, step out of his comfort zone and actually live a little.

And then it all backfired and he’s right back where he started from.

“Well, well, well.”

Bellamy’s eyes close, his hands forming fists under the table at the sound of John Murphy’s voice.

“You can leave now, fucknut,” Miller says in a bored tone. “No one here cares about whatever dumb thing is about to fall out of your mouth.”

Murphy brings his hand to his chest. “Now, Miller, I am offended! I am merely here to congratulate Clarke. That’s all.”

Bellamy’s eyes shoot over to Clarke, who’s wearing an unimpressed look. “What are you talking about, Murphy?”

Murphy leans down with his hands on the table, his face inches from Clarke’s, and Bellamy is shocked that he hasn’t jumped up and beat this kid down yet. Violence has never been something he’s had to resort to but right now the feel of Murphy’s nose crunching under his fist sounds pretty fucking good.

“On your new boyfriend, obviously.”

Clarke’s eyes shoot to him and of course the entire table notices. Monty’s eyebrows go up comically and Harper elbows him in the side.

“I don’t have a boyfriend. Not you and not anyone else,” Clarke replies smoothly. “Now, you can take your happy ass and all your idiot friends back to your own table and let me finish my BLT.”

Only Murphy doesn’t leave, just digs his heels in deeper as he sneers in Clarke’s face. “That’s not what I heard. In fact,” he motions to one of his lackeys. “Dax here says that he saw you and a certain someone at The Bluffs last night. Someone at this very table. I didn’t get many details since he said the windows were pretty fogged up but we damn sure know who’s SUV you were in.”

Bellamy’s eyes are narrowed so much he can barely see. He notices Miller is close to standing, always ready for a fight, and Monty looks like he’s close to jumping up as well.

“What’s the matter, Murphy?” Clarke grins as she pushes her plate away. “Mad because you couldn’t get me to fuck you anymore or mad that I found someone better?”

The table is quiet, hell the entire cafeteria is quiet, and this is the exact reason Bellamy doesn’t get involved with shit like this. Now everyone in school is going to know his business and the thing he likes most is his privacy.

“You think he’s better than me?” Murphy nods towards Bellamy and yep, not it’s confirmed. He silently prays that Clarke leaves him out of it but he knows before she speaks that he’ll have no such luck.

“I can _guarantee_ he’s better than you,” she purrs. “His hands, his body. His mouth.” She licks her lips, takes her time as if she’s remembering their night together. “Better in every single way.”

She fails to mention fucking bailing on him but it doesn’t seem like the time or place to bring that up.

“That’s enough, Clarke.”

His voice surprises her, surprises everyone, and the whole table looks at him when he pushes himself away from the table.

“If you want to fight with Murphy, go right on ahead. But don’t fucking drag me into this with you.”

Monty catches up with him when he’s outside in the hallway, his eyebrows furrowed as they walk towards Bellamy’s next class.

“Holy shit,” Monty says, breaking the silence and Bellamy chuckles darkly as he gives him a wave goodbye.

Holy shit is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m an asshole. I literally updated this a year ago today, who does that?! I just re-read this entire fic and remembered that it’s one of my favorite fics that I’ve ever started so I am determined to finish it now. Thank you to everyone that has read/commented on it, hopefully this update was worth the wait!


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